The General by Gadziala Jessica

Author:Gadziala, Jessica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

It was the groaning.

Foreign to my sleepy brain, the unfamiliar groaning sound woke me out of the deadest of sleeps, making my heart jolt a little wildly until I remembered where I was.

At Smith's.

In his bed.

And the doors groaned.

The doors groaned... when someone opened them.

I threw myself over in bed, finding the door indeed open, a little bit of light flickering in from the living room down the short hall, casting Smith's wide figure mostly in shadow.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice low, sleepy-sounding. Like he'd just woken up as well. "I just wanted to check on your fire," he added, waving a hand to the fire that was just twinkling embers. "I'll just build it back up and get back out. Go back to sleep," he said, voice soft, like he was trying to lull me.

But I didn't sleep.

I was suddenly more awake, more aware than I had perhaps ever been.

Like of the way Smith slept only in thin pajama pants, meaning I got a fantastic view of the outlines of thick, deep muscles of his chest, abdomen, shoulders, back.

Like how his biceps contracted when he reached to put another couple logs on the fire, steepled like a church ceiling.

Like how the wood cracked as the fire started to leap.

Like the immediate warmth it provided.

Like the way the smell of campfire - one of Smith's smells - filled the room.

Like the way I was suddenly acutely aware of the way the sheets rubbed against my smooth legs, the way my chest felt tight, my nipples peaked, my belly fluttered, my core tightened.

"Wait," I heard my voice call. Plead, even, as he turned to walk back toward the door.

At the sound, he turned, gaze landing on me. "Do you need something?" he asked, voice deeper than usual.

I don't know where it came from, the word, the implication behind it, so foreign to me.

I guess it was simple.

It came from a place of need, something primal and unstoppable, something so long denied.

"You," my voice whispered, going up and down a bit more than was normal, but loud enough to be heard.

I knew it because he stiffened, his head turning over his shoulder like he was sure his self-control was just right behind him and if he eyed it, it might take over him once again.

"Jenny..." he said, his breath exhaling.

This time, I recognized the roughness.

Need.

Like mine.

Like how mine made my voice airy, breathless.

Emboldened a bit by that realization, I sat up, then got to my knees, reaching out, closing my hand around his giant wrist, pulling just the tiniest bit.

"Sweetheart," he said, gaze still not quite meeting mine. Like he was afraid to. "You've been through a rollercoaster the past week or so. I don't think..."

"Don't," I cut him off, making his gaze jump up, likely surprised by the sharpness in my tone, something I didn't even know I was capable of until I heard it myself. "Everyone is always telling me what to think, what to feel. Please, don't tell me what to think.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.